


Down came the rain (And Washed the spider out)

by Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid, Aziraphalessushi



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: (and probably an ambulance), Angst, Azriaphalessushi’s favorite tag, Do not read if you are in search for fluff, Gen, Hurt, Hurt Peter Parker, Hydra Peter Parker, I promise, Joint Fic, Mind Control, Multi, PTSD Peter Parker, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Presumed Dead, Sad Peter Parker, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, We literally pilled as much angst as possible into one fic, Whump, You’ll hate us, but that’s spoilers, honestly they all need hugs, i guess, not very happy, split personality
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-01-30 11:48:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21427738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid/pseuds/Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aziraphalessushi/pseuds/Aziraphalessushi
Summary: Aziraphalessushi and Anti_social_headphones_kid presents: Our take on Hydra!Peter! We’re hopping aboard the whump train with this one, really dark stuff.PeterhatedMondays. Bad things always seemed to happen on them, which is why he wasn’t surprised when he was kidnapped by some old Russian guys who gave him a new name: Spider.Being mind controlled is no fun. Especially when you can’t see any way to escape.Peter is slowly breaking through, but will it be enough?
Relationships: Background Wanda/Vision - Relationship, Peter Parker & Avengers, Peter Parker & May Parker, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark & Avengers, Tony Stark & F.R.I.D.A.Y, Tony Stark & May Parker, Tony Stark & Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark/Pepper Potts
Comments: 23
Kudos: 123





	1. Aziraphalessushi

**Author's Note:**

> This is both of ours first joint fic! Let us know what you think in the comments! 
> 
> Also final warning: NOT A VERY HAPPY FIC. THERE WILL BE TEARS. YOU WILL WANT TO GIVE PETER ALL THE HUGS. GRAB YOUR TISSUES AND BE WARNED.

Peter really hated Mondays. 

Really, truly hated them. 

It wasn’t just the fact that school began again, or work too, or even that it wasn’t a lab day with Mr. Stark. No, it was that something always happened on a Monday. Something bad.

Such as, for instance, getting kidnapped by highly trained officers who had an array of weapons that Peter had never seen the likes of before. Such as, for instance, being drugged with unknown chemicals and waking up hours later with a sore throat and urge to vomit. Such as, for instance, being knocked out again, and now tied in a chair with metal cuffs he couldn’t break, listening to voices argue what to do with him behind a thin two way mirror.

Yep, he really hated Mondays. 

Peter groaned, vision swimming. 

Harsh lights blinded him, stinging circles into his eyes. When Peter looked away from the lights, he found he was in a room sparsely decorated. It contained a single metal chair that he was strapped to with cuffs he couldn’t break, one lonely table with some wicked looking knives, a bed with a leather strap, a high-tech camera in the corner, and a full ceiling to floor mirror that he could hear voices behind. 

“Hmm. Boy has a better metabolism then Cap.”

“I’d like to run some tests.”

“Interesting...”

Voices filled his head, people bickering over what to do with him. His sixth sense sparked, providing a constant throb to the back of his head. 

A door appeared out of the wall, sliding with a great mechanical noise that hurt his ears, sensitive after the whole, ya know, kidnaping thing. 

“What is your name?” The scientist asked.

Peter looked up at them, and shuddered involvedentarily at their cold, dark eyes. Just keep calm, Peter, he told himself. Crack jokes and stuff. 

“More like what’s your skincare routine? Damn, homie, that’s some pretty nice skin.” He hated himself for the voice cracks. Calm. Cool. It was by far not his first kidnapping, although he would never admit that to May, and Mr. Stark would be here soon. 

The scientist did not look happy at this answer. His eye twitched, and he grabbed a knife from the table. Peter’s sixth sense went wild, screaming. 

Before he could get out another word, however, The scientist stuffed a ball gag in his mouth. He took the wicked looking blade, and made a nice 3 inch gash on his forehead. 

Peter screamed behind the gag, feeling the warm liquid run down his face. The scientist ripped the gag out of his mouth and asked again ”What is your name?”

Peter, still reeling from shock, must have taken too long to respond. The Scientist slashed his face again, this time on his cheek. “What is your name?” He prompted again.

With no desire to get cut again, Peter choked out a response. “Peter…” 

This only earned another cut. “Name.” 

Confused, he said it again. “Peter.” 

A third cut found their way into his skin. “No. You are Spider.” Despite Peter’s confusion, he did not argue. “Spider. This is your name.”

Spider? Really? How...creative. The Scientist, as if he could read his thoughts, slashed his arm this time. “What is your name?” 

“Pe- Spider, spider.” At this, the Scientist lowered the now blood stained knife and left the room without another word. 

He stayed like that for hours, just sitting in the chair. According to his mental clock, it had been almost a day when someone showed up again.

The person who came in was different than the last. This one had a thick beard that covered most of his face. He said not a word, instead placing a tray in front of him with some gray slop. Then he turned and left the room.

That became the daily routine. Sit alone, wait for food. Days, or maybe hours passed. 

Until, however, the cycle was broken. Peter expected for it to be broken whenever he had been rescued, although that hadn’t happened yet. Instead, however, it was broken when another scientist lingered in the room after bringing the daily slop. 

He had learned not to say anything after getting punched repeatedly. So now a scientist was lingering in his room, and Peter was scared to say anything. His spider sense was tingling, but it had been doing that a lot lately, so it was nothing new. 

Peter eyed the scientist warily, never looking him in the eye. That was another lesson he had learned. 

Tense minutes passed. The Scientist was staring at him now, so Peter had to stop his glances. A few more passed, Peter now staring at the floor getting steadily more uncomfortable. Finally, the Scientist spoke, but not in English. 

“Пуак.” His voice was cold and rough. It made Peter feel weird. It was in Russian, he was pretty sure, from when Natasha and Bucky spoke it. 

The Scientist said another word, and Peter’s gaze snapped immediately to the Scientist. He immediately looked away again, hoping he wouldn’t get hit. At his brief gaze, though, the Scientist seemed to be smiling. Peter could tell that the people behind the mirror were also happy. However, when Peter tried to listen to what they were saying, as he had been doing, a voice filled his ears. Don’t listen to them, it whispered. They are your superiors. 

The Scientist spoke another word. The voice grew stronger. It started to drone, repeating superiors, superiors, superiors.

Another word. He glanced at the Scientist again, and found himself unable to look away. Look at them. Superiors. Listen to them. Superiors.

Another word. The voice was louder now. Peter stood up, as straight backed as the chair would let him. 

Another word, and his spider sense halted for the first time. 

Another word. Superiors, Spider. Listen. Look.

Another word, and the trance was broken. Peter blinked, spider sense returning to him. The voices behind the mirror became clear again.

“What happened?”

“He snapped out of it.”

“That’s not supposed to happen, is it?”

“I’m not impressed.” 

“It was only the first time, General!”

“We can improve, I swear.”

“Three days. Project Пуак must be perfect.”

“Yes General.”

“We won’t let you down.”

Peter was looking at the Scientist while this conversation was happening. Well, glancing at his feet, as eye contact was still a no go. But even then, he could feel the frown on his lips. 

It made him feel weird. As much as Peter disliked the Scientists, he felt a weird need to do whatever they wanted. Whatever. No matter what it cost. No matter who had to be hurt. The fuck? He thought. These people hurt you. No matter what he tried to think, though, a little nag in his head always wanted to please the Su-Scientists. 

For the next two days, this was the new routine. He would be woken up by someone bringing him food, would be told some Russian words snapping him into some sort of stupor, and then get snapped out of it, and finally get drugged until he fell asleep only to be woken up with food. 

It was a stranger routine than the last one, but the strangest part of all was that every time he snapped out of his stupor, more and more of him realized Hydra was right. Every time he slept, his dreams that were once filled with May and Mr. Stark now had words whispering Hail Hydra over and over. 

He woke up one day? Night? Week? Time had come and gone, and Peter was unsure of how many days he had been in this cold, bright room. The Scientist brought in his food as usual, and what he could still make out from the mirror, despite his head screaming to not listen, the General was back. 

The Scientist strapped him to the bed, and sat in the chair, as was usual. He didn’t have any strength to fight, with his muscles being weak from unuse. 

Sitting in the chair, the Scientist spoke. The words were his least favorite part. Peter braved himself.

One word. The uneasy feeling. An awful feeling of don’t screw up. 

Two words. His gaze snapped to the Scientist, Peter not even trying to fight. The soft, syrupy voice crawling in his head beginning the drone of superior. Superior. 

Three words. He stood up, muscles working against him. Stand straight. Never mind the screaming of your muscles.

Four words. Spider found himself slipping into ease. Peter was always hard to control. He was difficult. By the fourth word, though, Spider was happy. These were his superiors. He was safe.

Fifth word. Spider was now fully in control. Peter was buried, as he was supposed to be. But who was Peter, again? 

Final word. Listen. Superiors. Spider.

Obey.

He felt his face go slack, and relaxed against the cuffs. “Spider ready to comply.”


	2. May and Tony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we are going to do flashbacks every other chapter! First is May and Tony.

Tony was working underneath one of his cars when Pepper came in the room. “Tony,” she said, “it’s past curfew.” 

“Huh?” He asked. “No, no it can’t be past curfew. The kid hasn’t shown up yet.” He popped out from out underneath his car, with a confused expression that matched Peppers.

“What do you mean Peter hasn’t shown up yet?”

“I mean, he never showed? FRIDAY, what’s the status on the kid?”

“Mr. Parker has not been seen sense late last night.” 

The confusion melted into concern and fear. “Fri?”

“I have contacted Mrs. Parker, she is on her way. Apparently, Mr. Parker has missed school as well, and there have been no reports of Spider-Man in the city. 

It has not been a full 24 hour time period since his absence was first noted, and Mrs. Parker is waiting anxiously for that time.”

Tony blinked, soaking the information in. “Shit,” he whispered. He rushed over to a laptop, pulling up the spider tracker. “Shiiiiiiit.” The suit was at May’s house. 

Peter had been missing for several hours, and he didn’t have his suit. It didn’t take a genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist to know something was wrong.

Extremely wrong, if it was at his aunts house. 

Although he had wanted to jump up immediately and go find Peter, Pepper forced him to think about it. Take a moment to consider the actions he can take, and the consequences of these actions. 

It wasn’t Peter’s first time getting kidnapped, although Tony would never tell May that, because good god that woman was terrifying. He would find Peter soon.

He hoped.

Tony flew to his computer once again, calling on Friday. “Fri, activate the tracker in the kid’s watch.” There was a few beeping noises as Friday made the search.

“Tracker located, at the corner of 5th and main.” 

Tony frowned. That was the name of an intersection near the Kid’s place. His stomach filled with dread. 

“Friday, how long has the tracker been stationary?”

“Boss...” 

“How LONG.” 

“5 hours.” 

“SHIT!” He yelled, slamming his hands into the table. The watch tracker was one of the only ways he managed to find Peter. Without it....

He had to act fast.  
———————————————  
3am.

May sighed as she finally took off her work shoes. The shift had been brutal, and she couldn’t wait to kick off her scrubs and get some sleep. Sandwich, a stray cat that Peter had picked up, rubbed against her legs.

May glanced at the teens room. She didn’t hear any noises, so he was either asleep or still out. She hoped he was asleep. As much as May loved that Peter went out and helped everyone, she had seen him hurt more then she ever wanted.

6am.

May’s alarm blinked. She sat up and groaned. 3 hours of sleep was not enough, but she had to make sure Peter was up. Getting out of bed, May noticed hot chocolate wrappers and smiled. 

She had banned coffee, despite Peter’s protest, but she relented on the coco. 

“Peter, honey, it’s time to get up!” May shouted through the door. Sighing, she walked over. May could hear Peter’s alarm through the door, just like most mornings. 

May shook him awake. Peter sighed. “Time?” 

“Only six, but please do get up.” 

Peter threw his blanket down. “Six? I promised Ned that I’d meet up with him!” 

“Well, you better get going, then.” 

In a flurry of toast and schoolbooks, Peter was gone out the door.

8am. 

After some much needed sleep, May woke up for a second time. After feeding Pancake, she started cleaning.

9am.

May watched some TV. 

10am.

May went grocery shopping. 

12pm. 

She ate lunch.

4pm. 

Peter will be home soon.

5pm.

Did he have Decathlon practice? It wasn’t today, was it? Only Thursday’s? But Nationals were coming up, right? May brushed off these thoughts and turned on a movie.

8pm.

The movie was over, and as the end credits rolled over the screen, May realized she had yet to hear from Peter. Grabbing her phone, she noticed that he hadn’t even read her message.

9pm.

May called the police. Was she being unreasonable? He was Spider-Man, maybe he just got caught up somewhere?

A nasty part of her head told her that he could also be bleeding out somewhere.

10pm.

Peter’s never been this late before.

11pm.

Images of Ben flashed in her mind.

Midnight.

She tried to get some sleep.

1am.

She gave up trying.

2am.

May found herself looking at youtube videos of Spider-Man. Watching him do all those crazy flips make her feel better and worse at the same time.

3am.

Should she call Tony? 

4am. 

He’d be home from patrol now.

5am.

May called in sick.

6am.

Udder hopelessness.

7am.

Someone knocked on the door. She answered, hoping it had something to do with Peter. She slammed it when she saw it was a salesman.

8am.

May wondered what type of salesmen would come to the door at 7am.

12pm.

May ate lunch.

4pm.

Peter would be home soon.

5:23pm.

May called the police again. Peter is officially missing.

She wonders if he’ll ever be found.


	3. The Spider Wakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! It's Anti_Social_Headphones_Kid this time, I really hope you've been enjoying the story so far (Aziraphalessushi's a great writer, right?), anywaysss I hope you enjoy this chapter too!

Coldness. That’s all Spider felt when he thought about his surroundings, was coldness.

The cold dark room, the hallways mirroring the atmosphere, and the way people acted towards him, always distant and cold.

He had briefly wondered how it was he knew to classify the way people treated him as ‘cold,’ since as far as he knew, there had never been any warmth to contrast it, but he supposed it was natural instinct, one of the things Hydra had mentioned as weakness, one of the things he shouldn’t think about or question. 

So he ignored it.

His days came and went in glances, almost always the same, only some being differentiated by the loss of memories where a normal routine should be, and he hadn’t questioned it- he had thought about questioning it, but soon the idea was buried under fear, causing him to wonder if he had asked it before and got what had rightly been his punishment.

Even so, there were still too many questions that flooded his mind. Too many thoughts he couldn’t control. He didn’t know where he was, he didn’t know who he was, other than the name ’Spider’ that he had been given, but even that didn’t feel right. And there was still a basic knowledge of things that he understood, but he never understood where it had come from. 

The obvious answer was that Hydra had conditioned him to know these things, but even then it felt confusing. 

He knew what was considered day and night, he knew what trees were, and he knew that days were counted by hours, and hours by minutes, and minutes by seconds, but he didn’t know how he knew these things despite never seeing a window, or never having seen a clock- these were just things he knew without question, and although none of these things were connected to memories, he felt a warmth from them that was odd, something that made him feel the slightest bit of satisfaction from knowing this boring, minimal facts, something that made him question if this had really been all he’s ever known.

And he was starting to feel less and less certain that this was all there had been to his life. He knew that the bed he was lying on was considered hard, and he knew that the room he was put in was small and close to empty. He knew that most beds didn’t have restraining belts and that most rooms didn’t have cameras watching him. He knew that the band on his wrist was used to ‘control’ him, but he also knew that most people didn’t have to live with this restriction.

Maybe some of these things were easier to know since he could look at the people around him, the ones that controlled him and noticed that they weren’t forced to live the same way he was- if this was even considered living.

And something was unsettling about the fact that the world was much larger and free then he was currently… why was he the one here out of all people? Of course, he knew the answer to that- his powers. His powers that Hydra claimed made him special, that made him above others, the thing that he would’ve really preferred to live without.

The light in his room flashed on, florescent and blinding, making his eyes water of their volition, and reminding him that he had hardly gotten more than an hour of sleep in- another one of those things he understood that it was an unhealthily amount, but wasn’t really able to do anything about it.

He sat up, and prepared for the morning check-in: someone would come in, check his heart-rate, leave, followed by another person who would come in and yell at him for something he had underperformed in, breakfast would (usually) come, although it could hardly be considered food, and soon he would be put into training, testing, and blah blah blah, until it was time to sleep. Then he’d just have to focus on surviving the night and the next day. And the day after that.

It wasn’t much of a life, and even though Hydra considered him an ‘asset,’ he couldn’t help but feel like all he had left to focus on was surviving- sure he had food, clothing, and shelter- which was much more than many people had, but he also had a wristband that was enabled to torture and kill him at a moments notice, so y’ know, it evened out.

Soon one of the workers came in and took his heartbeat. Spider remained expressionless as the plastic strap was wrapped around his arm, tightened, and loosened, and taken off. He remained expressionless as the second worker came in and shouted at him about a slip he had made during the climbing course- it had been valid, he had screwed up, if that had been a real mission, he would’ve been seen. He remained expressionless as his food was brought in, and even as he ate it (which was actually pretty hard since it was disgusting).

That was one of the earliest lessons he had learned besides being obedient and not asking questions- show no emotion.

And it was becoming easier each day. The less emotion he showed, the less he felt, the less he questioned things, and the easier it was to obey.

The easier it was to obey, the easier it was to survive. 

And survival was really all he had left to think about. It never crossed his mind that he should be thinking about more than surviving, even when it should’ ve- there was no point in thinking about having a life, there was no point in thinking about something impossible- and it was impossible. 

If he even managed to escape Hydra, his life would be over, so surviving and actually living were two different things, things that would never work together, one a harsh future, and the other was nothing but a dream.

A soldier re-entered the room, remaining wordless as he took the food tray out, and Spider began to count the seconds he was left alone. It was routine that after a count of six-hundred seconds ‘the General’ would come to get him, and the day’s training would begin.

Those ten minutes were valuable to him, he was finally left alone with the finality that there would likely be no surprises in those minutes. But those moments alone were also dangerous, since often his mind wandered the most in that short time, raising questions he had so stupidly asked, only to get beat in return, so soon, he began counting the seconds- it helped him stay sharp, stay focused, stay aware, and it also seemed to make those short moments longer- ten minutes? Not long. Six-hundred seconds? Still not long, but it created the illusion of length.

Still counting in his head, Spider stood up and began to fold the single blanket they had provided him. He ignored the annoying feel of the rough burlap as he placed it back on his bed and headed over to the sink in the corner of his room, taking the moments to dump his head under the cold water- he had to ignore any tiredness he felt- after all, any weakness shown would just result in more punishments.

He turned off the water and dried his head, staring ahead at the wall in front of the sink, allowing for the brief question of what he looked like to enter his thoughts, but he quickly pushed it out and continued his count.

“355, 356, 357, 358, 359, 360…” 

He continued to mutter the numbers under his breath as he sat down on his bed, facing the door, attempting to mentally prepare himself for the day.

Spider had only made it to the 420s when the door to his room banged open unexpectedly, causing him to jump up and stare at the usual arrivals, who had apparently decided to come earlier, resolving to take the least bit of peace that Spider felt during the day.

He stood firmly as he stared at the General, keeping his face devoid of all emotion, even though he felt a voice on the inside screaming from the sight of the man- the same voice that made him ask questions, and the same voice that told him he knew what it was like to feel at peace, to feel anything at all. He didn’t like this voice, as it was the one that Hydra said made him weak, so he bit down on his tongue, snapping himself back to reality with the taste of blood.

“Follow me,” the man ordered, and Spider followed without delay.

He followed down the hallways, tracing the steps he took every day. Head left, take another left at the second hallway, then two rights-

“AAAAAGGGGHHHH!” He heard himself scream as he lost control over his body, collapsing on the floor in agony as he felt electricity course through him- his band had been activated, which meant he had done something wrong. He had no clue what it was he had done wrong, but he supposed that if they had triggered it, he must’ve done something wrong- and even if he hadn’t there was no point in arguing.

His involuntary screams lowered to still involuntary moans as the zapping stopped. It would’ve been great if he had just been allowed to rest for a few moments, but there were a few swift kicks to his thigh, reminding him to get the hell up unless he wanted to spend the rest of the day wriggling around on the floor with electricity.

He got up and kept his eyes on the ground as he watched the feet of the guards guiding him somewhere… somewhere he’d never been before. He was vaguely aware of the different turns, but the hallways all still looked the same, causing him to wonder what it would even look like outside the walls.

They stopped outside a door, and he felt himself be shoved into the room.

He barely glanced around at the surroundings before realizing the room was empty, sans a man who was standing in the centre of the room.

The man steadily walked up to him, staring coldly into his eyes before saying: “Spider, new mission: terminate Avengers.”


	4. Nat & Wanda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter we worked on together! The next one will be about Peter again.

  
Natasha was good at finding things. Lost hair clips. Clint's hearing aids. Clint’s hair clips. Toys long forgotten under beds and in backyards.

Secrets.

Still though, as a spy, finding secrets was not only something she was good at, but also something she had a knack for, and oftentimes, she discovered hidden things about people that even they might not know.

So it was beyond safe to say that between them all, the last person you would want to try and fool was Natasha- there was no way you could keep something from her for very long, nor should you expect to.

She found everyone had their own way of hiding- Tony, for example, just pretended everything was fine until he cracked. Steve would burden it until he got a chance to talk. Clint picks up after his kids- secrets whispered in the dead of night, journals hidden under mattresses. Fury just went out and dealt with it-leading to many humorous conversations. 

Hotheaded, empathetic, emotional, childish-all of which were words that could describe the way the team worked on their own problems and Nat had gotten good at determining when they were going to act out.

So when Tony came in with his ‘everything is fine don’t ask any questions especially you Nat’ face, or at least that was what Clint had dubbed it, she just had to pry.

“So, Tony,” she said, watching him flinch. “What’s the scoop? New bad guy? Old emotional issues? You know I’ll find out eventually. Spill the tea.”

“‘Spill the tea’? God, you are spending too much time around the...kid. The kid.” The way he slowed down when reaching Peter was...interesting, to say the least. 

“Speaking of which,” she added, “Where is the little Пуак? I haven’t seen him around.” 

“...He wasn’t...able to come. Had some stuff with May. Yeah.”

“Sure. Ok.” Natasha made a mental note to figure out more. Tony wouldn’t have been the only one affected if the kid never showed up.

He inserted himself into everyone’s life-sometimes not even noticing that the was doing it. Even Natasha would kill anyone who dares look at her baby spider wrong. So, time to ask around. 

She hauled herself into the vents to get around quicker and was quickly reminded why she never did it often. It was a tight squeeze for Clint, in fact, he had even made the vents around his room bigger to put stuff in, but with her small frame, she managed to make it. 

Natasha stopped at the first room she saw, such just so happened to be the common room where Pepper was sitting, chugging out of Tony’s ‘I just worked for 40 hours straight don’t talk to me’ (She really had to work with Clint on these names) mug. 

She lowered herself when Pepper put the mug down, and the women looked at each other, Pepper with her own ‘everything is fine don’t ask any questions especially you Nat’ face, and Nat’s a little dusty from being in the vents.

“Hey Pepper. I was wondering if you could answer a question for me?”

“Sure, Natasha. What do you need?” 

“Where’s Peter?” The question froze her up, just as it was intended to. 

“Oh, um, he was with his Aunt. Yeah, they were going to do...stuff.” 

“Yeah?” Natasha asked casually. Pepper wasn’t the easiest person to get information out of- after all, she had spent how many years taking care of Tony and the press- but Nat had learned that it was easier to get Pepper to open up when she felt less like she was being interviewed by the press, and more like she was having a normal conversation.

“Yes,” Pepper replied tightly.

“I’m glad, May seemed a little stressed the last time I spoke with her.”

“Oh? I didn’t know you both kept in touch.”

“On and off- she doesn’t have a lot of spare time as it is, but I see her every once in awhile- usually only when she comes to the compound though.”

Pepper let out a slight but nervous laugh. “Well, I hear raising teenagers isn’t the easiest thing- not to mention a super-powered one. I’m sure she’ll be ok as long as Peter is.”

“And Peter is?”

“Is what?”

“Is he ok?”

“Of course,” Pepper replied with a smile, albeit one that lacked genuine happiness. “Why wouldn’t he be? He’s with his May, so it’s not like he’s out fighting criminals at the moment.”

Natasha nodded, but realized the answer to the question- something had happened to Peter- something that Pepper knew about, most likely from Tony, and something that the rest of the Avengers were being kept from. 

And she was going to find out what.

* * *

  
The search was….frustrating, to say the least. Pepper made some excuse about more coffee, and before Nat could ask he what she could possibly need more coffee for, fled the room.

Next, she tried to find Tony, but he had disappeared. 

But she wasn’t one to give up, and although both Tony and Pepper had disappeared- aka the two people who had been acting the strangest- that didn’t mean she was left to wait until one of them returned- in fact, it was almost better that they were gone, since that meant there wouldn’t be any issues when it came to going through whatever evidence the couple both knew about and were trying to hide.

Of course, the last time she had intruded on something being kept quiet, it had been a surprise party, and needless to say, she had been pretty disappointed in herself for spoiling it… but whatever was happening now seemed to be actually serious- especially if it had something to do with Peter- and she was almost certain it was, from the way that Tony hesitated and refused to say his name, to the tired and shaky look on Pepper’s face. And that wasn’t even mentioning how obvious it was when Pepper mentioned May.

Something was up, that much was obvious, she just had to find out what exactly it was.

If it was Spider-Man business, then Tony would’ve flown off in a rush in his suit, but she hadn’t heard the suit’s activation… so there was something else wrong.

Wasting no time on thoughts and theories, Natasha made her way to Tony’s workshop, knowing that most likely more answers lay there than anywhere else.

When she got there, a strange sight (almost as strange as the couple’s behavior) greeted her. Friday had pulled up various articles about kidnappings, rapists, kidnappings, teenage rebellion, and kidnappings. 

With that and Peter missing, it was obvious he wasn’t with his aunt.

She popped back out and found Tony.

“So, Peter. He’s missing.” She told him, tone sharp.

“He’s with his aunt.”

“Yeah? Well, that explains all the tabs open in the lab.” 

Tony froze. “He’s. With. His. Aunt.”

“I care about him too. And to be real, I could probably find him much faster.”

He whipped out his phone. “I’ll call her right now, okay? That make you happy?” He dialed May’s number. “Hey May, I’m here with Nat, she wants confirmation that the kid is sick. She thinks he’s been kidnapped or somethin. Yeah, I tried to tell her. Uh huh.” He pulled the phone on speaker. “Yeah, you’re on speaker now May.”

“Peter’s here with me. He’s sick, so he can’t come to the tower this weekend. He is very sorry.”

“Can I talk to him?”

“He’s got laryngitis, stayed out too long.”

“Ok.” Her team didn’t really have something that they would keep from her, lying to her like this.

* * *

* * *

  
  
An ordinary day can end in disaster. 

It was a lesson she had learned from Sokovia and Ultron. One that she could never stop learning.

Today was an ordinary day. 

Of course, days wouldn’t always keep on being ordinary, and she had to remind herself that pretty much every day started that way, even though it usually didn’t take long for the day to take a turn for the weird- after all, she was an Avenger, and her life was always guaranteed to turn out different from what others experienced.

For one, her day had started somewhat normally. Until, however, she found Thor crying over how they had finished the pop-tarts until Tony reminded him that he was literally a billionaire, and they ordered some more. So yeah, normal days could turn weird real quick.

Today, though, she felt odd. Today, there was no crying Thor. No Tony flaunting his money. Today was too normal.

She almost wanted to feel relieved- maybe there was something inside her that longed to feel normal like others, or maybe it was just because she finally felt that she could take a breath without a wave of weirdness suddenly coming forth- but as much as she was enjoying it, there was a sinister sort of air hanging around.

It was a normal day when her parents died when she lost her home when her life was changed.

Wanda forced herself to take a deep breath. It was going to be ok- there hadn’t even been anything that had gone wrong yet, right?

Still, though, it might be nice to talk to someone, and it was almost guaranteed that if she were to talk to someone- anyone- the day would become much less ordinary. She was currently in her room, so she was currently alone (thankfully). She looked around the soft space, her eyes grazing past different things in her room until they finally came to a stop when they landed on a photo of her brother.

No, being alone wasn’t doing her any good, but she didn’t really feel like talking face-to-face with anyone at the moment either, so she instead picked up her phone and quickly sent a text to Peter, asking if he was at the compound- a question she thought she already knew the answer to- it was the weekend, so of course Peter was there. Still, though, she figured she’d make sure.

She sent the text, shut her phone, and flopped down on her bed, waiting to hear the buzz in reply. 

After a few minutes without reply, she opened her phone again, and sent another text, asking if he wanted to watch something with her and Vision later.

Wanda sighed, realizing she should probably get something to eat, so she got up from her bed and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a box of Lucky Charms before sitting at the table, eating them from the box as she sat comfortably in her seat. It was quiet, which felt odd since the kitchen was usually a busy place, especially on a Saturday morning.

Wanda was sitting in the kitchen, still munching on her raw cereal when Pepper wordlessly walked in and began to make coffee. Her eyes looked glazed over and tired, almost like how Tony seemed sometimes after a late night.

“Hey, Pepper,” Wanda greeted with slight curiosity, shaking Pepper back to reality. The woman attempted to blink the tired haze out of her eyes but ultimately failed as she smiled back at Wanda.

“‘Hi Wanda,” Pepper replied tiredly. “Sorry, Tony’s been up all night, I just came to grab some coffee for him,” she explained, causing Wanda to lightly laugh.

“That’s nice, but wasn’t Peter supposed to get him to bed on time? Or did they both lose track of time?”

Pepper’s expression became uncomfortable, and the smile dropped from her face.

“No… no, Peter wasn’t able to make it last night…”

Pepper paused as if she had more to add to that statement, but for some reason decided against it.

“Sorry, Wanda, I should really be going now,” Pepper said quickly before grabbing the newly made cup of coffee and heading out of the room, leaving Wanda alone with her thoughts.

Peter couldn’t make it? She rushed back to her phone. The two messages that she sent were still unread. 

Peter once said that he would rather die than miss a lab day with Tony- a statement the man himself chuckled, roughed his hair and told him don’t you dare at. So why would he have missed this one? And why was Pepper acting so weird about it?

The brief thought crossed her mind to go to his home to say a quick ‘hi’, and just make sure everything was alright, but she soon brushed that thought away- it was silly, really- why should she be worried about him?

Still, though, she felt a pit in the bottom of her stomach, something that told her something was wrong. Why though? Everything should be fine.

Everything is fine, she reassured herself. But her mind began to stray to Peter- the kid had really started to feel like a younger brother to her, and some days she swore that it was almost as if Pietro had sent Peter to cheer her up, to not feel so alone.

She shoved another handful of cereal into her mouth as she tried to ignore her swirling thoughts. She closed her eyes in the hope that it would clear her mind, but instead all she saw were visions of Peter being tortured. The witch forced her eyes to reopen, reminding herself that it wasn’t real… it wasn’t real.

Her worst fear had come true when she lost her brother… and now her mind was playing tricks on her, perhaps as revenge for forcing the other Avengers to see their worst fears, she’s now being forced to see the person she thought of most like another brother in pain- truly, her powers were a blessing.

Some great blessing, she thought. If she had to hear any more “I bet you didn’t see that one coming”, she was going to punch something. 

A dark part of her thought about how his last words weren’t even to her.

“Shake it off, Wanda.” She told herself, grabbing her cell phone. Scrolling through her contacts, she saw a name and dialed. She may not be able to have her brother anymore, but she did have her surrogate father. 

“Howdy, Barton Household.”

“Hey, Lila!” 

“Auntie Dan! How are you?!”

“I’m good, girly-q. How are you?”

“Fine. Cooper broke my magnifying glass, though.”

“Oh no! Have you gotten a new one yet?”

“No. I know a secret though,” she added as she dropped her voice to a whisper.

Wanda copied her example. “What is it?”

“I’m gonna get a super good one for my birthday.” 

“That’s so cool!” Wanda could feel herself calming down, her grip losing from the cereal box. “Hey, Lila, it’s been fun talking to you, but can I talk to your dad?” 

“Oh! Sure. Let me go get him for you.” She heard a clatter as the phone dropped to the table, and took a deep breath. Images of Peter still swum through her head, but of pleasant memories. Picnics. Missions. Pranks. 

Clint had that effect on her. She always felt calm talking to him. He was, truly, the dad she never had. 

“Hey, Wanda! What’s needing my old fart expertise?”

“You’re not old, папа!” She said with a laugh. “I just...something feels off today.” 

“Aww. One of those days?”

She shrugged, then remembered she was on the phone. “I guess so. Plus, Pepper is acting weird.”

“Well, I can-“

“Talk. Talk to me.”

“Ok? Well, very exciting news. We picked out Lila’s birthday present. Well, one of many. It’s this super cool magnifying glass...”

The two chatted for a long time, about this and that. By the end of the conversation, Wanda was feeling much better. Everything was fine. She was fine. The day would be fine. 

She still felt uneasy, but in a ‘I forgot something’ way rather than a ‘something terrible was going to happen’ way. But everything would be okay. 

Because for once, everything would be okay. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spider does some research. Tony loves messing with hackers. Ned thought it would be a normal day. 
> 
> -This is the chapter where the whump picks up, so proceed at your own caution.

He barely glanced around at the surroundings before realizing the room was empty, sans a man who was standing in the centre of the room.

The man steadily walked up to Spider before speaking: “Spider, new mission: terminate Avengers.”

—-

“Terminate the Avengers.” 

The Avengers? Spider had heard of the group-how could he not, what with how much they ranted about them. Spider knew they were a huge problem, and always stopped Hydra’s plans. He also knew that he was the only one in the compound who had any sort of power, and he was special.

Spider could use that to his advantage, of course, but why would he? Hydra may not be as...kind as Spider wanted, but they gave him food and shelter. They stopped him from dying. Saved him. So why would he? 

But the Avengers? Spider, for all his confidence in his skills, doubted he would be able to take them down. He knew better then to defy his Superiors, though. That punishment alone made him shiver. 

They punished him severely whenever he slipped, as they should. Spider shouldn’t be the reason Hydra falls. He learned from the punishment, grew from it. He was better for it.

Spider would never intentionally cause punishment, though. As much as they helped him, punishments were never...pleasant experiences. 

So when the Superior told him his mission, he couldn’t doubt. Just go and figure out how to do it. 

The superiors led him back to his room, and Spider gathered his few things.

His web shooters, an extra cartage of webs, and his black mask that matched the rest of his outfit. There weren’t many things, but they were his.

Once he was ready, the Superior shoved him in a burlap sack that matched his blanket, and spun him around before leading him out, arm tight on his wrist. It was a safety precaution, so that if he tried to leave, he wouldn’t know the way. Not that he would ever try to leave (after all, what life was there outside of Hydra?) but the Superior didn’t care.

He was thrust into the cold, now on his own. He would return in three months. The mission would be complete. He wouldn’t mess this up. Spider may not be the best fighter, after all, his Superiors always told him he needed improvement, but he would go up against the Avengers.

Eventually, Spider found his way to a library. Just like everything else he couldn’t explain, he knew that this would be a good place to get some information. 

When Spider got there, he headed straight for the computers. First, he tried searching AVENGERS. This led him to several pages of reports on everything they did, along with the tower they all supposedly lived in. He also found several articles of people’s support for them, and how they saved people. 

“So I’m the bad guy here,” Spider whispered under his breath. If people liked the Avengers and they kept them safe, he was taking out protectors. Great. Spider might not have much of a moral compass, but he hated it when he took care of people who saved others. It made a deep thing inside him wiggle. Besides, he was the ‘bad guy’ on his cases around 90% of the time, but it was never easier. 

The tower was a good place to start. It seemed like a normal building, but some quick hacking proved otherwise. There was a complex security system, designed like a maze, getting you trapped the further you went with no hope of getting out once you’ve started. The code seemed familiar, like he’d seen it before.

“So, Peter. Mr. Stark asked me to help design a new security system for the tower, which is insane and I’m totally freaking out. Come over and we’ll chat about it...”

“...peter peter oh my god I just got the best idea. You know how those rat mazes seem like really big to the rat, right? But to us it’s super small? And we can see what the rat is doing? What if we make it like that...”

“...so all you have to do to break out of it is punch a wall down! Become a human! Death to the rats! So like...”

“Just...one sec...there go! You got it! High five, my good human. Now...”

Spider blinked. He was in a trance, totally zoned out. He looked at the code again, unsure of how to start.

His fingers started flying as he plugged in the general hacking usb and unlocking files. They all needed a master code to unlock, and each code seemed to be different to the last. 

Not twenty minutes later, though, he found himself in the towers system. Spider popped his fingers. He really had to work on his zoning. His superiors would so upset at him right now.

But he was in. That’s what mattered, right? How did he get in, again? 

Mission. Do the mission.

Spider took a deep breath and started prodding around in the towers code. There seemed to be a secondary wall, like a tent surrounding the information he would need to complete the mission. He poked at it a bit, but it reacted only when he attempted to get into the classified information, which was basically everything.  
He must have poked at the wrong thing, however, because a blue screen filled the computer. There was a voice, too, but Spider didn’t listen to it as he frantically tried to click off. 

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work. Look in not in a good mood right now, so I’m going shut you out and if you could leave and come back never, that’d be great.”

“Mr. Stark?” Spider doesn’t know why he speaks. Why did he talk? Was it really Stark? 

The man was silent. Heartbeats passed. Spider didn’t breath.

“Kid?” He sounded small. Something brushed Spiders cheek. Reaching up, he saw it was a tear. 

“Mr. Stark-I-“ Words came tumbling out of his mouth. Why was he talking again? “Help me. Please. I was taken-by Hydra I think-“ what life was there outside of Hydra? “They took me and-and they put this thing in my head and I can’t-You need to leave-I can’t do anything. It-I-“

“Peter? Where are you? We can come get you-“

“No! No, you can’t. I’ll hurt you. I-I don’t have any control. You can’t come-“ 

“I can help you, just tell me where you are, damnit!” 

“I’D KILL YOU! Don’t you think I want help? Do you think I like having this thing in my head? It’s been ordered to kill you and I can do nothing to stop it! You need to go away. Don’t leave a trace for me. Go.”

“Peter, where are you?”

“Did you hear NOTHING of what I just said? I’m even helping it- I don’t want to! It was looking at the code and I just thought of when Ned built it and then my fingers were moving but I couldn’t stop thinking of the code and how to break it and-I didn’t want to, Mr. Stark.”

“Peter, that’s not your fault. I-“ 

FRIDAY dinged in the background. “Boss, computer found. Local library.”

“Nonono don’t come.”

“Too late, bud. FRIDAY, gimme some juice.” 

“Max power reaches. Estimated time five minutes.”

Spider started hyperventilating. He couldn’t take on the target now! “No, Mr. Stark. Really, Stark. I’m good.”

“Did you just call me Stark?”

“No, Mr. Stark. Sir. Tony.”

“Shit, Fri, go faster. He’s loosing it.”

Spider stumbled back, alarming the people who weren’t already glancing at him curiously. He was gathering too much attention, and if Stark was coming, he really had to book it. Now. 

As he ran out, muttering a thanks to the librarian, all he could think about was how badly he had screwed up. Not only had been unable to hack into the tower where the targets lived, he had alerted them to his presence. 

Spider couldn’t go back to that library. He couldn’t go back to those couple of streets. Why had he talked? How could he have been so stupid?

He looked up to see the iron man suit flying above. He should move, but his feet were almost glued to the pavement. 

Stark got out of the suit, looking disheveled. “FRIDAY, do a heat scan of the area.”

“That alley. There.” 

Shit. They found him. Theyfoundhimtheyfoundhimthey-

“Peter?” Stark’s voice could break glass. Spider stood frozen and Stark advanced. Spider grabbed his head, flinging him to the ground. Stark groaned, and Spider started running. He didn’t have a destination in mind, just away. 

His superiors must have programed him to have a map of New York, because Spider found himself cutting through alleys that he had no idea previously existed. There were shady people hanging out here, a person smoking, and person selling drugs, and more people starving then Spider had ever seen. 

Spider felt a sense of loss, although he didn’t know why. Should he help? Why would he? That would just bring unnecessary attention to himself. He had already spent too long lingering here anyways. 

If he took down a drug dealer, it was for a weapon. A nice gun, too. 

Spider shook his head and moved on, following the alley until it spat him out at near the backs of several restaurants. It was painfully similar, and Spider found himself looking up at a crack, where there was a backpack floating. 

He crawled up the wall to get it (after all, there might be useful supplies in it). Upon further inspection, he noticed it was covered in a thin silver net much like his webs. This was a lot thinner, though. Perhaps from age? He didn’t remember putting it here, though. Maybe he was wiped. Hydra wiped him often, to keep him sharp. He must have been undercover at a place that needed a backpack.

In the bag itself was an outfit, some schoolbooks (was he undercover at a school?), and web shooters much like his own. 

It must have been him who left it there, then. There were no others who knew how to make the web shooters. Those would be useful if his broke, so he stuck them in one of his many pockets. The outfit would be useful for blending in. 

Spider slipped it on and went down to the ground. He contemplated his options. He had to do some research before anything. Although that library was off limits now, there were still others around, so that seemed like a good place to go to. Yeah. He would go to another library.

With this thought in mind, he slipped out of the alley and was met with a school. ‘Midtown Tech’, it read on the side. Was this the school he went undercover at?

Students were milling around, and it looked like school had just ended. One particular boy caught his attention. He had headphones in, and stared at the ground dejectedly.

And he was headed his way. Spider should move. The boy...he was even more familiar to him than anything he had seen yet. What was going on? 

The boy had seen him, and was now jogging over.

“Peter?” Asked the boy with an indescribable facial expression. “Where have you been, man! Oh my god, May is gonna freak!” 

Spider started at him in indifference, but his head buzzed with emotions. For one, the month of May was never his favorite, and although he was not supposed to feel emotions, he always loved the winter. As the boy continued to ramble, a pang crept through his chest, moving all throughout his body, locking his arms and legs in place as he felt his body struggle to swallow. 

“Peter?” The boy asked carefully, almost in a whisper as he looked at Spider in what appeared to be sorrow. “Where were you? Y-you don’t look…like...yourself.”

Spider opened his mouth, but almost immediately shut it closed again. He fought something back inside him, and ignored the confusion that suddenly clouded his mind. He had been about to respond to this kid- this kid who he didn’t know, who he hadn’t been instructed to speak to, or approach. And what had he been thinking of saying anyways? He didn’t talk unless spoken to- Hydra had made that clear, but this boy was acting as if he knew him… that couldn’t be the case though.

The reasonable part of Spider knew that this boy could’ve just mistaken him for someone else who looked like him- New York was a large city after all. But no, why did that matter? It didn’t. If this boy did know who he was, then he was a threat to Hydra, and Spider wouldn’t take any chances. 

He didn’t need to look for an excuse to not kill this boy- he had killed before, and this time was no different.

Actually, that was wrong- this time was different, much different. Someone had actually identified him. They identified him wrongly, but-

Had they?

Spider’s chest tightened and his breath quickened. He didn’t know what was happening, but he knew what he was feeling was wrong. 

He ignored this physical reaction. He knew his body still came with weaknesses despite Hydra’s training, and had experienced pain before… but usually he had been hurt during training- but this- this had come completely unprompted, by some random child in an alley. Why?

The Spider was sure he had never seen this boy before, even though the kid acted as though he did, which meant he had been compromised. That’s what it meant, right?

His fists clenched at he continued to stare at the boy, unable to move. He ignored the sensation of his fingernails cutting through the fabric of his gloves and into his skin, and he ignored the smell of blood as his nails cut into himself. The boy seemed familiar.

I’ve been compromised, He reminded himself. I know him because I’ve seen him before on a mission.

His mission. This programed reality-check was quick to shake him from his brief panic.

He knew what to do. He had done it too many times to count now, but at least it was familiar. He didn’t want it to be, especially when it came to kids. Did he even have a choice, though?

Act fast. Keep Hydra on the down-low. Complete the mission.

With a deep breath, he felt himself regain control over his body and moved his line of sight to look behind him in the alleyway. It was empty, the setting sun making the shadows longer and darker so it’d be easy to conceal any movement from the main streets- and even then, there was hardly any foot traffic for a back alley in New York.

Ignoring the new unprompted feeling of hesitation, Spider motioned for the boy to follow, before turning around and heading to the back alley. The boy frowned, but followed him. Once Spider could be sure there were no witnesses, he took out a gun, to the alarm of the boy. “Peter….?” He said, voice dripping with suspicion and fear. 

It was his last word. His blood poured out from the wound in his head, staining the floor. Rest was routine. Dump the body. Burn the evidence. Kee-

Ned. Ned Leeds. He is your best friend. Worried about you. Peter. That is your name. This information popped into his head like a lighting bolt, frying his brain. Why would Hydra have programmed him to know this boy?

Spider shook off the voice. He had a mission. Being misidentified happened all the time, right? There was no way the boy actually knew him. 

Ned, the voice urged. You built legos together. Watched Star Wars. It’s a movie. You like it. 

”Mission.” He muttered to himself. Ned, the voice screamed. He doesn’t matter now, Spider said. Back and forth the voices argued. 

Ned. Mission. Legos. Kill. Friend. Witness. Help. Paper trail. 

Spider out his head in his hands. Get rid of the body. Do the mission. 

He closed his eyes for just a second to collect his thoughts, something he rarely got to do. Spider could feel his training pulling at him to finish the mission, but another part of him was pulling to go die. This Ned, whoever he was, well, no. 

Spider knew who he was, no denying it. It was Ned Leeds. His friend who he watched Star Wars, and built Legos, his friend who he had shared secrets with, who supported him, and Spider supported right back. 

For that one second, Spider allowed himself to grieve for a person he never got the chance to know. The voice in his head gave memories Spider wasn’t even sure he wanted, flashes of happiness that Hydra couldn’t replicate. 

Peter. Ned has said Peter. 

It seemed like a good name for the voice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >:)))


	6. Before, Between, and After

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I hope ya'll enjoy the chapter, just a trigger warning: there is self-harm in this, so if your bothered by that, please skip this chapter and stay safe - AntiSocial

Everything had been going normally for Ned- well, as normal as things could get for someone who’s friend was a superhero- but even then, when Peter wasn’t out being all ’spectacular’, it was pretty normal.

They’d go to school, watch movies, build legos- basically do whatever they felt like. And other than the superhero side-gig Peter had gotten, everything had pretty much stayed the same. It was like when they were in middle school, doing pretty much the same things.

He didn’t think that it would ever change… sure, they would move on to college soon, and after that, they might not get to spend as much time together as they used to, but they would still be friends, they’d still be together.

Until they weren’t.

At first, Ned hadn’t thought much of it, Peter missing one day of school was probably due to May insisting he took a break from all the vigilante work. He still sent Peter a quick text, asking if everything was ok, but no response… well, that made sense, since if Peter was sick or resting, he’d probably be asleep, and Ned knew more than anyone how much Peter needed that extra time to sleep.

The next day though, Peter was still a no-show, and there was still no reply to his text, which was a little odd. He tried to phone him over lunch break, but there was no answer, so instead, he quickly tracked Peter’s suit, which thankfully, was still at his home, which meant that at the very least, Peter hadn’t been in a crime-related accident… still, though, it was becoming a little worrying. He knew he could always just pop in and say hi, and see for himself that everything was fine, but he didn’t want to intrude. Ok, maybe that was a lie. He knew he was always welcome, but he still didn’t want to go, he didn’t want to know if something was wrong. There probably wasn’t though, right?

Maybe he was in denial, but maybe it was better than finding out you lost your best friend.

The next morning, he couldn’t get Peter off his mind. He on the school steps, wondering if he’d see his friend bound cheerfully up the steps to meet him with some excuse like his phone had broken for good during patrol, and he ended up getting sick, which was why he’d been out of contact for days. But no one came.

After school ended, Ned decided he couldn’t take any more of this. He dialled May’s number and phoned. He waited impatiently while it rung, finally hanging up when the answering machine came on. 

Fine, he’d just go to their apartment.

He headed through the familiar streets until he reached the building, and headed upstairs and knocked on their door, which opened to reveal a frantic-looking May with her face covered in tear stains. It was at that moment Ned understood what had been lost.

The days after that seemed to be blurred together, meshed into weeks, until a month had gone by- or was it two? Did it even matter? One day May would phone and update him with a lead, the next Mr. Stark would call and inform him that it had been a false lead, and wasn’t it super cool that he was having regular phone calls with an Avenger? Only he couldn’t bring himself to care anymore, and was instead forming a sort of resentment whenever he saw the number, since it almost always meant he’d be hearing more bad news, the stuff May couldn’t bring herself to say aloud, but convinced Tony to call Ned every time to be ‘informed’. But in all honesty, the only thing he ever heard in those phone calls was the assurance that he’d never get to see his best friend again, that they’d never be together again- and that old news came from the very man who was supposed to protect him.

Ned knew Tony wasn’t at fault, but he still couldn’t help but be bitter towards the man, but that was probably just because he needed someone to blame. Someone else to be angry at after he found out he was the last person to see Peter. 

Maybe if he had been stronger, if he had walked home with Peter that day, he would still be here, safe. But instead, he was gone, and all Ned could do was sit around and wait for a hero to find the person he had lost.

School had just ended, and Ned was heading out, lost in his own thoughts when he saw a familiar face duck into an alleyway. 

That wasn’t… it couldn’t be…

Ned felt like his heart had skipped a beat, as he began to run towards where he’d seen the person duck. When he reached the alleyway and looked inside, he saw, without a doubt, his best friend: Peter Parker.

“Peter?” Ned asked, almost afraid that he was going insane. Peter, on the other hand, looked stunned. He remained silent as he eyed Ned warily, not moving forward, nor moving back, but staying. He looked pale and thin, kinda like a vampire, his eyes betraying a dead look inside- but Ned was just relieved to see him alive, that he took a step closer and waited in silence for Peter to make the next move.

“Where have you been, man! Oh my god, May is gonna freak!” He blurted out after being unable to bear the silence any longer.

“Peter?” He asked after being met with only more silence and dead stares. “Where were you? Y-you don’t look…like...yourself,” he finally asked, realizing how shaken his friend must be to not be saying a word. It wasn’t like him, and truth be told, Ned was beginning to become scared.

Peter opened his mouth but decided against it, clenching his fists instead. Ned realized that he was obviously emotionally distraught, and was finding it hard to speak, but that was ok, no matter how long this took, he would always be there for his friend- he was just so happy that he was still alive, and no matter what happened, Ned was going to help him through this.

Peter suddenly seemed to snap back to reality and motioned for him to follow him deeper into the alleyway, so Ned followed, desperate to know what happened, but at the same time, slight fear crept into his mind as his mind flashed back to Peter’s eyes, which had been dull without recollection. But Peter was his best friend, he would never hurt him, right?

His friend stopped walking but didn’t turn around. Ned resisted the urge to step back, and instead took a step forward. He had to help him.

“Peter….?” He asked in concern. Before he could make another move though, Peter whipped around suddenly, and Ned heard the ringing of a gunshot.

_I’ve been shot, _he thought to himself faintly as he began to lean back, falling to the ground. _Peter shot me, and I’m going to die. But he wouldn’t, but he’s here, he did it. It doesn’t matter, he’s alive. He’s here with me._ _I knew we’d always be together until the end_, Ned thought as his mind faded slowly, flipping quickly through moments in his life until he hit the ground-

* * *

Spider stared at the body as it lay on the cold pavement. He felt his own breathing quicken as he realized that the person before him no longer had any breath in him, his eyes still open, but no longer holding any life as the blood from his wound continued to drip out slowly.

Ignoring the shaky way his body was responding to seeing the lifeless body before him, he reached down and shut the eyes of the boy before beginning to go about his usual way of dismembering and disposing of a body, when something in him made him stop as he pulled out his knife.

He didn’t know what it was, as he was programmed to carry out his missions, no matter what- but he couldn’t bring himself to make another move. Instead, he sat before him on the rough gravel, knife in hand, wondering how it must’ve felt to die in a surrounding such as this. The kid probably had woken up this morning assuming that he wouldn’t die today. He had probably been on his way home from school, his friends must live somewhere else since he’d been walking alone, or perhaps he didn’t have friends- the thought of which strangely sickened him. Not many people would miss him if that was the case, which would be better for Hydra, the fewer people who notice, the better… But looking at the lone body laying there, Spider felt something within himself snap.

The kid- Ned- had been alone when he died, left only with his killer in a dark alley, he had  _ thought _ his killer was someone else, someone who perhaps was his friend. Maybe they would miss him. The voice inside himself seemed to whisper  _ that person is you _ , but Spider ignored it. Maybe in a different life, in a different time, they could’ve been friends, but not here, not him.

It felt as if his mind and any sense of reason had left him as he sat there in silence. It was only when he recognized his surroundings had been getting dark as the sunset, that he realized that he had to do something about the body.

He knew that protocol was to dismember the body if incineration wasn’t possible, but he felt dizzy every time he attempted to bring his knife to the body, so instead, he waited until the dead of night, wanting to keep a low profile before dumping the body in the river.

When at last the streets were silent, he covered the body in webbing, and picked it up carefully, climbing within the shadows of buildings, until he, at last, saw East River in the distance. But he surprised himself when he instead turned around and headed in another direction, almost instinctively, until he finally landed in a quiet place: a graveyard.

He silently walked among the tombstones, before finding an empty area, and got to work digging a hole. He carefully set the body in it before finally covering it, allowing the boy to rest. Maybe this was sloppy of him, and it was more likely for the body to be found, but at least he had allowed the boy to have a peaceful burial despite his panicked death.

When the task was done, he closed his eyes for just a second to collect his thoughts, something he rarely got to do as he walked among the stones. He stopped in front of one particular stone, almost like his body was used to stopping there as if the motion was as automatic as blinking.

He turned to look at the name: Ben Parker.

No. No, he didn’t know who that was. Just like he didn’t know why  _ the fuck _ he had just given Ned a proper burial. No, not Ned, that was just some kid, right?

Either way, it didn’t matter anymore. Ned was dead, and with him, any answers that Spider might have about those memories with him.

* * *

First Peter had disappeared, and now Ned had been found dead. Some dimwit had buried him in a graveyard as if the police wouldn’t check out a hole that randomly appeared in a graveyard overnight. MJ was almost as shocked at the incompetence of Ned’s killer as she had been when she found out Ned had died. 

She felt cursed. In less than a year, she had lost the only two friends she’d ever had, and what was worse was that they had left her behind, on her own. Everyone was saying that they ‘died too young,’ that they ‘should be here right now,’ but all MJ could think of was how she  _ shouldn’t _ be here now, that she should be with Ned and Peter. 

No one had asked them if they wanted to die, but it had still happened, and no one was asking her if she wanted to die, but she wanted to. But she didn’t have a choice, not really. Those two-they had gotten the easy way out of life, accidents, people remembered them, talked about how they should’ve lived longer, how they could’ve done great things, and yeah, some people would forget about them, but when they  _ were _ remembered, it would be positive things, good memories.

But if she wanted a way out, if  _ she _ did what she so desperately wanted to, then all that would ever be heard about her would be faint whispers around her family.  _ ‘Did you hear what happened to her daughter?’ ‘Oh that poor couple, their daughter killed herself,’ ‘they must be going through so much.’ _ But no one would ever stop to think:  _ ‘MJ killed herself, she must’ve been going through a lot,’ or ‘ MJ was a pretty good captain of the decathlon, it’s sad she died so young.’  _ No one would think of that because she would be making the choice, because that somehow made her situation less tragic.

So many people had told her that her memories of Ned and Peter were what was important, that they weren’t gone. She was sixteen, and she didn’t want to hear their fucking lies anymore.

She stood in front of Ned’s grave, still not used to seeing his name engraved in the stone as a few others from class stood around alongside her, as well as Ned’s parents and extended relatives. Everyone had tears in their eyes, Betty was sobbing, and even Flash was trying (and failing) to hold himself back from tears, but when MJ felt her face, it was dry. She felt numb. She wanted to die, and yet Ned was the one six feet under. Isn’t the world just fucked up?

MJ broke off from the group- she couldn’t take it anymore- she walked over to a quieter part of the graveyard, hidden away from anyone’s sight, and opened her bag. There was a small knife she always carried with her for self-defence, but if Ned’s case was any example, a knife would do very little to save her life in a gunfight.

She brought the knife out and studied it, taking the cover off. Her hands shook as she examined the sharp edge, her mind flashing back to the conversations she’d had with the people who’d come to the funeral to offer ‘support’.

_ ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ _

_ ‘You must be going through a lot.’ _

_ ‘You miss him this much because you cared for him, and wasn’t your life better for knowing him?’ _

Yes, her life had been a lot fucking better with him in it, and now it was so much worse that he wasn’t around anymore. In a rush of anger, She brought the knife down, scraping her arm from her wrist to her elbow. It hadn’t dug deep enough to draw blood, but stinging of the scrape felt good, it felt right. She dragged another scrape, this time a little deeper, and felt an angry sense of satisfaction as she saw the slightest amount of blood appear from the cut, so she dragged it down a third time, this time harder than the previous times, a hollow smile breaking out when she saw the flesh split in two, revealing the deep red underneath.

She was alive. She was alive and she fucking hated it. She hated herself for still being there. But she was still alive and it didn’t fucking matter anymore, she didn’t have a say in it, so she was just going to have to suck it up and keep living.

Her head throbbed, and she leaned against a tree. The rustling of some bushes startled her, making her snap her head up. May came stumbling through, her eyes soaked with tears.

May took one look at Mj, knife in hand with a red streak running down her arm, and immediately came over to her.

“How long, Michelle?”

“It’s-it’s not-“

“You’re not gonna try to deny this, are you?” Her voice was tight and thin-lipped. “How long?”

“I...first. The first.”

“But the thoughts?” May was silent as she stared at her. “Hmm?”

“Ever since...a while.” She didn’t want to admit this. She didn’t want to be like this.

Reason filled her head, and she chucked the knife away. “What am I doing, May? Why does it hurt so  _ bad _ ?” He voice had dropped to a whisper.

May sat down beside her, rolling up her sleeves. She showed Mj, and to her shock, there were thin lines running down it.

“I...haven’t had the easiest life. First, my sister and my brother in law. Both gone in a blink of the eye, leaving me with a five year old who wanted to know when his mom and dad were coming back. But it was fine, and yeah, we got their debts, and their troubles, and another mouth we have to feed, but it would be fine, right? I thought so.” She laughed bitterly. “I thought I’d always have Ben. Well, you know how that turned out. So, I got therapy for Peter, supported his extracurriculars, did everything I was supposed to do. 

“It was hard, Michelle. More money needed every week, and I now have half the income, and Peter wants to do so many things and I just can’t keep up. The money can’t either. 

“I was such a horrible mom. I never wanted kids, and I think Peter knew that. I would give anything for him. Anything, but the bills and the budget didn’t agree. I needed help, but couldn’t afford anything to help. I thought  _ it  _ would help. 

“Turns out, didn’t do shit. Just gave me these, which are a horrible fashion statement, by the way. I got better. I...I hated myself. So, so much. Every turn there was something screaming that I was doing horrible. Every day a new problem to tack onto the pile. 

“You know what made me stop, Michelle? Peter. He…” She sobbed. “He found me. In the bathroom. No sense of privacy, that one. He-god, he found me, and I was still bleeding. I didn’t even notice. He said I have a boo boo. I told him yeah, I guess I do. He asked if we could play LEGO. He had just gotten a new set for his birthday, a little crummy one I got for twenty dollars, which was the most money could get us. 

“He looked at me, and called me the best mom ever. And I-“ May rubbed her hand on her face. “God, I-I stopped. And I regret ever doing it. If I could change one thing, that’s what it would be. Right there. Don’t make that mistake, Michelle.”

“My friends call me Mj.” She whispered. “They called me Mj. It’s the first thing I ever said to them.” She rubbed her jacket sleeve over her face, rubbing away tears that had popped up. “Why did they leave me, May? I don’t wanna be alone.” She sounded so small, all her ego and sarcastic quips gone. 

“You’re not alone, though. You have your parents. The ACD team. And,” she said, sweeping Mj’s face into her hands, “You have me. I’ll always be here for you. No matter what.” Mj smiled, drained and almost loopy. 

The two women sat next to each other, backs against the tree, both certain that although the years ahead would never be easy, they had each other. No matter what.


End file.
